


The Lion's Share

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Both Platonic and Romantic, Cuddling, Fluff, Historical Accuracy Is My Personal Enemy, Hurt/Comfort, John is a Mess, Lafayette's a Great Friend, M/M, Self-Destructive Tendencies, So Is Alexander, lots of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-05 04:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12786810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Then, he understands; he understands everyone's concern, the pain in their faces when he throws himself in harm's way. He's never been one to be afraid, but seeing John like this does make him freeze in horror.God, he's been so reckless.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the timeline actually matches historical fact so theyre all young and in the battlefield but not married yet, but like legit everything else is based on the musical.
> 
> have fun!!!

 “You were not supposed to be there”

Alexander shifts uncomfortably under the general’s gaze. There’s a moment of silence and suddenly he’s aware, too aware of the warmth of the candle and the heaviness of the eyes that lay on him. Two pairs of eyes, restless and piercing. Their weight is not going to crush him, but it does make his blood boil. Alexander looks at Lafayette first, perhaps looking for support, and certainly finds it; there’s a hint of compassion in the other man’s expression, enough to keep him grounded.

There had been a skirmish today. The gash on his arm aches under the bandage, but Alexander’s discomfort does not come from any physical wound. He looks at the General with such fierceness that it’s almost disrespectful, but his defiance is met with nothing but silence.

“I know”, Alexander snaps, desperate to break the maddening stillness.

“I don’t think you understand,” Washington replies calmly, resting his hand on Alexander’s shoulder.

“I know what I did, sir”, the young man mutters, his entire body shaking under the General’s grasp. “And I do not regret it”

Another pause. Hamilton counts the seconds until it becomes too much to bear; his arm burns where the blade managed to reach him, and the pain punctuates every passing moment with horrible persistence.

“Alexander”

“Yes, sir”

“Listen to me for a minute”

Alexander feels nauseous, but manages to stay quiet. Their eyes meet briefly, and the younger man is surprised to find nothing in them but sincere concern.

 

* * *

 

 

 

It’s too much to bear. It feels like burning, to be dismissed like that; burning ashes sticking to his skin and making his head muddled. Hamilton stumbles outside the tent. The wind hits him mercilessly, stoking the fire inside him. He thinks he’ll simply burst into flame, but someone grabs him by the arm before it can happen. Alexander looks up at his saviour in bewilderment.

“Lafayette”, he manages to mutter.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah”

The taller man rubs his back soothingly, and Alexander can’t help but shudder. A grin crosses his face, much to his friend’s horror. It’s hard to explain. He does not even try to.

“So, you squeezed yourself into a battle north from here,” Lafayette begins cautiously.

“Yes, I did, and I got fucking _stabbed_ ,” Alex’s words overlap with his friend’s, “but it’s a war, Lafayette, what are we supposed to do? It’s not a big deal. It’s really not”

"It was not your fight"

"You do know that's ridiculous, right?"

Lafayette sighs, “I do. I agree with you, but at the same time I’m too…”

“Worried?”

“Selfish”

“Huh?”

“I swear, you are just trying to kill me”

Alexander inhales sharply. The air feels heavy, a sure sign of a storm coming. He coughs forcibly until his throat feels raw.

“I’d never do such a thing” he whispers.

“Losing you would break my heart, Alex. Your death would mean mine, too”

“Don’t be dramatic”

There’s a moment to breathe, but Lafayette breaks it before long. His eyes examine his friend’s expression, and apparently, he doesn’t like what he sees. A deep sigh escapes the taller man, making Alex raise an eyebrow.

“You do not understand our concern, do you?”

Hamilton remains silent. There’s a difference between understanding and empathizing with the sentiment.

“I work differently, Lafayette”, he finally says.

His friend’s eyes flutter closed as he rubs his temples. He mutters something in French, something Hamilton recognizes as a curse.

“You know, maybe you should talk to John instead. I’m sure he understands you better,” he finally says in English.

Alex freezes for a moment, pausing to repeat the name in his head. His expression begins to change, going from wicked to perplexed, then setting in a look of pure horror.

“He does,” Hamilton mumbles mindlessly, once again overawed by his surroundings, “that goddamn animal”

Lafayette barely has any time to process what he’s heard before loud thunder breaks the silence. Hamilton responds by jumping on his place; a second later rain is pouring and Alexander is sprinting, just running towards the sick tent.

“Fuck, _John_!” he barks in his frantic race, “I forgot about John!”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guysssss this is a fucking mess
> 
> EDIT [11/26]  
> I had quite a good day today so, I read over this and fixed some mistakes. Also edited the whole last part, it's longer and nicer now. So, it's not as much of a mess as it was before!

Alexander shakes his head and growls. He enters the tent abruptly, earning a glare from the people inside. There’s not much activity, he realizes. Laurens is not there. Thoughts of death and emptiness race through his mind, making him emit a loud whimper that’s the closest to an actual word he can manage. Someone approaches him and guides him outside —wrong tent, they say—, and soon he’s out in the rain again.

 The sounds of the storm are too much to bear. Alexander wants to beg for it to stop. He is quickly consumed by a sensation of emptiness he simply can’t manage, so he tries to pray, but the words die on his mouth and leave him with nothing but his fear. He thinks about Laurens and his pulse quickens; not this, not now. It’s hard to stay focused, mind racing and legs weak. 

He finally reaches the right tent, soaked and trembling violently. The candlelight makes him wince, but he’s able to see Laurens sitting in front of him, legs splayed apart and elbows resting on his knees. He is in one piece, fully awake and looking at him. There’s a grievous wound over his collarbone, but it has been stitched up; that aside, he seems alright. Alexander takes a deep breath and almost passes out.

 “The general chewed you up real good, huh?” Laurens beams at him, eyes gleaming and almost predatory. 

“God, Jack”, Hamilton manages to say. 

Laurens lets out a low growl, an expression of endearment that’s just subtle enough for no one else to notice. Nonchalantly, he grabs a cup that’s resting on the cot beside him and takes a gulp of water, swishing it in his mouth before spitting. The liquid comes out reddish, but Laurens doesn’t seem disturbed. He grins at Alexander, who can only stare at the blood oozing from his mouth in mild concern. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“I couldn’t find you”, Hamilton says, voice now steady.

 “Well, here I am” 

Alexander sits beside his friend, desperate to make his expression convey his state. It does not work, and before he can speak Laurens is ruffling his hair, all too kind and invading for his taste. It makes him uncomfortable, and he can’t help but let out a whine. John chuckles at this, but he does retreat. 

“What’s wrong?” Laurens whispers, voice turning sweeter. 

“You just got a cut”, Alexander says, trembling again under the soaked coat. 

“Yeah, I’m all good” 

“I hate you so much” 

The smile that crosses Laurens’ face is too honest to be questioned. He rests his hand on the back of Hamilton’s neck, warm fingers brushing against wet skin. 

“Alex, there’s no need to be this upset”, Laurens says.

 Hamilton can feel his heartbeat hasten, eyes going wide with a mix of anger and fear. Almost involuntarily he places a hand on Laurens’ wounded shoulder, but the man is quick to move it aside.

 “It’s not a big deal,” John insists, “don’t worry about it” 

He tries to be quiet, but his exasperation only grows. For a second he wants to scream, and he bites his tongue until he tastes blood. 

“Alexander?”

“Let’s get out of here” 

Shakily he gets up, barely remembering to give Laurens a hand. There’s a hint of pain on the other’s face as he stands up, but he’s quick to hide it with a smile, turning around to throw his jacket haphazardly over his shoulders. They leave the sick tent together, the storm outside loud enough to drown their thoughts and voices. 

Their tent is not far away, and their lamp still burns. Alexander takes off his coat and leaves it by the entrance, looking mindlessly at the rain outside. He only turns around when he hears a creaking noise; Laurens is sitting on his cot, staring at the floor intensely as he attempts to dissimulate his laboured breathing.

“God, are you alright?”, Alexander asks. 

“Yeah”, John replies weakly. 

Hamilton knows it’s a lie, it’s too obvious to miss, but he’s not in the mood to ask. He entertains the idea of waiting until he understands, but he’s never been one to wait around; he knows he needs a distraction, anything to keep him busy and away from his own thoughts.

“I’ll get you some tea” he hastily says, leaving the tent without waiting for a response.

* * *

 

It would be generous to call the concoction tea, but at least it’s warm and it tastes like something. Alexander enters the tent as quietly as possible, thinking Laurens would be already asleep. What he sees instead makes him freeze in fear. 

“John, what the fuck” 

Laurens stands sombrely by the tent’s corner, looking down. His entire body trembles and then he’s hurling, feeble hands grasping the corner of Hamilton’s desk for support.

It’s almost as if he’s been hit by lighting. In an instant Alexander’s by his friend’s side, nervously trying to help. John looks up at him, pupils blown wide, and shakes his head. A new wave of nausea hits and he barely has time to push Alexander away. Unflinching, Hamilton holds Laurens in place, smoothing his hair back with one hand. He thinks John will fall apart the instant he stops holding him.

“I’m sorry”, Laurens says between gasps.

Hamilton wants to reply, already thinking of possible responses, but something else, something stronger keeps him from speaking. Perhaps it’s the fact that he knows Laurens would try to start a conversation. Even he’s amazed at his own composure as he remains by John’s side, unflinching.

As abruptly as it begins, it comes to an end, and Alexander finds himself with John in his arms, too weak to stand on his own. He helps him lie down then immediately leaves, kicking the pot outside and getting his blanket. Only when he comes back he notices, highlighted by the dim light, the purple and red marks that decorate Laurens’ abdomen and side. It would be odd to see such wounds, but he knows John all too well; he knows his ability to come up with wild ideas, and he also knows how those usually turn out. Either way, it’s quite a sight. Laurens’ chest rises and falls so faintly; he looks so pale, so unbelievably weak. A chill runs down his spine, mind finally settling and bringing back dark thoughts.

Then, he understands. He understands everyone's concern, the pain in their faces when he throws himself in harm's way. He's never been one to be afraid, but seeing John like this awakes a new type of fear in his heart.

God, he's been so reckless.

“Laurens?” He says, trying to keep his voice as soft as he can.

John’s eyes flutter open. Alexander draws in a shaky breath and moves a hand towards his friend’s side, fingers gingerly tracing the trail of bruises left by some unknown assailant. Laurens winces, but he does not cry out. Instead, he inhales sharply and begins to speak, voice frail but clear.

“Perhaps I got a bit more, y’know, beaten up that I had said”

Another chill. Alexander sits on the floor by John's cot. Carefully, he holds a damp cloth to his friend’s mouth, cleaning his face. Laurens leans towards him, a small consolation.

“Someone should take a look at this”, Hamilton begins slowly, not wanting his voice to break, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“You worry too much already”

“John…”

Laurens doesn’t answer, looking at him from under heavy-lidded eyes. He can feel his heart tremble and break a little. Hamilton turns around and takes his wet shirt off. Careful, he puts it on John’s chest, cold fabric against battered skin. A sigh of relief escapes the other man. Putting his blanket over his shoulders, he sits by Laurens’ side. Lafayette’s words echo through Alexander’s head, like puzzle pieces falling into place. For once, he empathizes with the sentiment.

“You alright?” John whispers.

“I’m not— it’s been a long day”

Eyes closed, deep breaths. Hamilton takes a minute to regain his composure, then looks at Laurens once again, expecting to find him asleep. It does not work. A pair of dark eyes stare at him from the relative darkness of the tent. Their expression, however, has changed. There’s something humbler in John’s face; almost a plea, perhaps an apology. Hamilton glances at his desks and considers it, considers writing until he passes out and just forgetting about the whole night. Then he looks at Laurens, and hesitates.

“Stay with me,” John mutters, and Hamilton gives in.

It’s not perfect, but it feels good to have those arms are wrapped around him. Despite his fear of hurting his friend any further, Alexander lets himself be hugged; he lets Laurens run his fingers through his hair, and press soft kisses against his temple. He even manages to speak, although his voice is unsteady.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he mumbles against John’s shoulder.

Laurens hums in agreement, holding Alexander a bit closer. Thunder breaks the silence, wind mercilessly shaking the tent.

“We’re going to be alright”

“Please be alright”

“I promise”

It’s messy and confusing, but Alexander does know now. Even like this, still pale and trembling, Laurens’ eyes are gleaming with such vivacity, so terrifying and so beautifully alive. And in those eyes he sees his own reflection, a constant burning flame, and for once he feels like all his fears of death and oblivion are distant. Right now, this is important. He presses a kiss to John’s lips.

Right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh let me know what you think?? this wasn't supposed to get hits what the heck 
> 
> also keep in mind, this is not over yet!! stay in tune for the specacular ending that might or might not include more kissing and snuggling because I, for one, love that shit


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pure, unadultered fluff. Everyone's cuddly and nice and a good friend 
> 
> proceed with caution

 

Laurens’ eyes flutter open. Everything around him is glowing under the gentle morning light, and in his arms, Alexander still sleeps. A perfect picture, a safe haven. He lets out a yawn.

“Good morning there,” he says, and Hamilton purrs in response, face pressed against his neck.

John smiles, hugging him tightly; his body might still be convalescent from yesterday’s aches, but he’s never let pain stop him before, and he’s not going to start now. Lazily running his fingers through his partner’s hair, Laurens takes a moment to appreciate the image before his eyes. Alexander is waking up slowly, tangled in the warmth and comfort of the blankets. Eyes still closed, he begins to press sleepy kisses to John’s jaw.

 “Mornin’, Laurens”, the younger man murmurs, looking at him from under heavy-lidded eyes.

A smile crosses John’s face as he rolls onto his back. Alexander whines and refuses to be separated, and he ends up draped across the other’s chest. Laurens chuckles, putting one arm around Alex’s waist and pulling him closer. Hamilton grins, and a second later he’s reaching down to messily kiss John; there’s a minute for sloppy bites and hurried caresses, but it all comes to an end very quickly. They’re still drowsy, still exhausted. With a sigh, Alexander lies down, resting his head on John’s chest. From his silent stance, Laurens can guess he’s trying to listen to his heartbeat. He can’t help but stare in lovestruck awe.

Minutes pass by in complete silence. For a moment, John thinks his friend has fallen asleep again, but then his dark eyes dart open, as awake and vivacious as ever.

“Time to get up?”

“Yeah”

With a jump, Alexander gets off the bed and begins to get dressed, all while muttering silly things that John only half-understands. He watches in silence. It takes a while for Laurens to get on his feet, but when he finally does, he is surprised by the sight of his own chest. He tries to figure out if this is supposed to hurt; he’s broken his bones too many times before, it’s hard to know what’s considered painful anymore. He thinks about the previous night, and how the pain was bad enough to make him hurl, and concludes he’s fine now. If a doctor saw him, they’d probably force him to rest for a day; it’s such a blessing that Alexander is the only one around to see.

“I guess it’d be useless to ask you to stay in bed,” Hamilton says, almost mockingly.

“Yeah,” he can’t help but smirk.

“Well then, let me patch you up”

Alex walks towards him, still shirtless and untidy, carrying some rags on his right hand. What he tore apart to obtain them, Laurens doesn’t know, but they do help alleviate the pain on his chest, even if Alexander has wrapped them a bit too tightly.

“Ok! Now get moving!” Hamilton bellows as he smacks him on the back.

“Ow! Come on, I’m hurt!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alexander says, already outside the tent, “we have work to do! Get your ass outta bed!”

 

* * *

 

It’s already dusk when Lafayette arrives. The evening is unsettlingly quiet, a sensation only accentuated by the songs of birds and the smell of fresh grass the wind carries. It worries him, but it still feels like a blessing. A young soldier helps him with his horse, while asking mundane questions that he answers politely. Once the boy’s gone, he walks towards the table someone’s set in the middle of the camping grounds, where a few fellow soldiers are still chatting and drinking.

“Hey, Gil,” a familiar voice calls him. He recognizes John Laurens, sitting on the table.

“Laurens,” Lafayette says as he sits by his side.

“How’s it goin’?”

“I live for another day. How about you? I heard you came back last night with hooves marked on your chest”

“Yeah,” John shrugs, “might’ve”

As ridiculous as they get, the rumours are never wrong. Lafayette takes a sip from the cup his friend is holding, looking at him in the eye. Although Laurens is smiling, there’s something rueful in his expression, a glint of nostalgia, perhaps even yearning. He raises an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong, my friend?”

“Why you ask?”

“You look different today,” Gilbert says, “more… subdued, I’d say”

Laurens laughs out loud at this, taking a swig from his cup and letting the liquid drip freely down his chin. His expression sweetens, however, when his eyes meet Lafayette’s.  Although Gilbert is younger, he’s more mature than most people John knows, and he makes an effort to act at least equally settled.

“I’ve been thinking”

“Terrible mistake”

“I know”, John chuckles, putting an arm around Lafayette’s shoulders, “but yeah, been thinkin’ about what’s coming. This’ll, this will get worse”

Lafayette nods, looking at the sky. The first few stars are already appearing, decorating the dark blue sky with their gentle gleam. He looks at his friend again. His eyes shine just as brightly.

“We’ve had it easy so far,” Laurens murmurs, voice low and almost unrecognizable, “but it will get worse”

“Are you nervous?”

“No, I’m prepared. But I am also grateful, y’know?”

He doesn’t. Gilbert cocks his head to the side, making John laugh once again. Without him realizing, Laurens’ hand makes its way to his hair, untying it with a swift movement. Lafayette whines, but it quickly turns into a murmur of agreement; as sudden as it is, the feeling of someone else’s fingers running through his hair is relaxing, and certainly welcome. He reciprocates the gesture by hugging the other a bit closer and soothingly rubbing his back.

“Although I used to take better care of myself”, Laurens begins to speak, “I never had a reason to do it. I was motivated by fear”

“Of what?”

“I’m not sure. But I’m not afraid anymore, you know? Even if I don’t know what’s going to happen, I’m just grateful to be here”

Laurens takes a deep breath. He looks at him with curiosity, waiting.

“I’ve never felt so alive,” John finally says.

Lafayette smiles.

They remain quiet for a long time. People are coming and going, but there’s no hurry in their step. It’s like the entire group of recruits shares their current sentiment: This is a night to celebrate that they’re alive, so people laugh and sing as the moon rises. Lafayette looks at them in awe. It will get worse, but this is not the time to think about it. For once, the world’s in order.

“Alex was freaking out last night,” John finally interrupts the peace with his voice, always a bit too loud.

“I see”

“He was so fucking nervous he wasn’t talking. He was speechless, Lafayette. It was bizarre”

“I’m sure he had a reason for it,” there’s a hint of reprobation on Gilbert’s voice. John picks up on it and grins, satisfied.

“I knew you had something to do with it”

“I just tried to talk some sense into him. The boy keeps throwing himself in harm’s way, it’s not healthy”

“Hmm,” John nods calmly, “what can I say, you’re right”

“You,” Lafayette pauses, looking for words, “and I mean that in plural, seem to be in an awful hurry to die”

Laurens chokes on his drink, laughing, causing Lafayette to push him away.

“Gil, for fuck’s sake”

“It’s true!”

“We’re just living _harder_ ”

“You got stomped on by a _horse_ ”

John just keeps on laughing. It’s exasperating. Lafayette thinks about it and trembles, for he’s seen men that need to be taken care of before, but never ones that need to be protected from themselves. But then it sinks in: Perhaps that’s the reason John and Alexander are as close as they are. Perhaps they are hunting each other’s demons. He knows all too well how gratifying it is to worry about others’ problems when one’s own ghosts are too much to handle. He tries his best to laugh along.

“Gilbert, for real now, thanks,” once again, Laurens interrupts the silence.

“Huh?”

“Thank you for talking to Alexander. I’m concerned too, but I lack your tact, or your brains for that matter. You care so much about him. It’s wonderful”

Although the darkness conceals it, John somehow manages to notice Lafayette is blushing. He does not, however, mock him for it, deciding to hug him instead.

“When it comes to spirit, we’ve got the lion’s share, but you’re the one with the biggest heart”

“Please John, that honour belongs to you. I would win the prize for ‘worst at choosing friends’, though”

Laurens chuckles, sound muffled by Lafayette’s coat. The younger man smells faintly of flowers and petrichor, a refreshing contrast to the constant scent of gunpowder that haunts him. He rubs is cheek against the other’s, eyes closed.

“God, you’re touch-starved” Gilbert says smugly.

“Well,” John shoots back immediately, “that term would imply I don’t get _touched_ enough, which you know is-”

“Laurens, you’re _disgusting_ ”

Another rambunctious laugh escapes the shorter man, and this time Lafayette joins in sincerely. But John’s laugh stops abruptly, and he straightens up to look across the field. Walking at a brisk pace, Hamilton approaches the table.

“Monsieur Lafayette!” he says as he joins them, “I’m sorry I was not able to meet you earlier today, I’ve been quite busy with work!”

“Love you too, dumbass”

“Oh, Laurens”

Alexander squeezes himself between his two friends. Although his attention seems divided evenly between the two men, his eyes are fixed on John, hungry and painfully indiscrete. Somehow, Laurens manages to keep his composure.

“Jokes aside,” Hamilton quickly says to Lafayette before turning back to face Laurens, “I actually have to talk to Gilbert about something serious, so if you could leave us alone…”

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll be in the tent if you need me”

“We have an essay to finish tonight, so you better start working on it while I’m here”

“Gotcha, baby”

“Laurens”, Alexander sighs, “you’re a _disaster_ ”

“That’s the same thing Lafayette said!”

“I said you were _disgusting_. Now go, dear”

“Alright, alright!”

John sprints towards the tent, cold wind filling his lungs and rising his spirits. He yells something, grinning, and he could swear he hears someone laugh at him. It doesn’t matter. By the time he’s reached his desk he’s winded, wheezing, his entire body reproving his behaviour. It doesn’t matter either. With a smile on his face, he begins to write.

At the table, Hamilton shifts uncomfortably, suddenly looking younger, smaller. Lafayette reassures him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I had to apologize for my behaviour last night,” Alexander says and immediately exhales, “you were completely right”

The moon has already settled high in the sky, and the last few soldiers are retiring to their tents. Alexander looks around and inhales deeply, listening to the crickets, feeling his chest rise and fall. A smile crosses Lafayette’s face. He smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok jokes aside, I really wanted to do something happy and fluffy! I hope you enjoyed it. Comments are super appreciated, let me know your thoughts!


End file.
